


The Coruscanti

by AnnieMar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Dramedy, F/M, Found Family, Han Solo shouldn't be allowed near a twitter account, I may have meshed together Han Solo and Indiana Jones don't at me, Mistaken Identity, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, Poe and Din are bffs, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMar/pseuds/AnnieMar
Summary: Han Solo's accidental twitter fame causes trouble when he suggests that "Rey the Curator" would be perfect for his son. Ben wants no part in it, as he already has a serious crush on his new neighbor. He has no idea they're actually the same person. #reylo“It looks like the prince of darkness moved in across the street,” Rey announced.Finn walked into the living room with a drink and plopped on the couch. “Why are you sitting like that?”“So that Severus Snape’s obnoxiously tall cousin can’t catch me watching him and send a dementor over to eat my soul.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 65
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this fic is from the twitter page for the National Cowboy Museum, which went viral because the guy who runs it is a gem. It made me wonder what would happen if Han Solo was stuck in charge of a museum's twitter page. Thus, here we are. 
> 
> Please check out the inspiration [HERE](https://www.boredpanda.com/national-cowboy-museum-head-of-security-twitter/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_content=stickybar). It's a delight.
> 
> Thanks for reading! (and thanks to Wheresarizona for making sure this all makes sense before I sent it out into the void)

**~~*...*~~**

Ben sighed as he slowly closed his laptop with one finger, thinking that was quite enough internet for now. Whoever had handed his father the museum’s Twitter account was out of their damn mind. He figured that person was Maz herself, so the description wasn’t too far off. 

He leaned back in his chair for a stretch, but also to give himself a minute to look out the bay windows he’d shoved his desk in front of. It was as acceptable a place as any, as it had plenty of natural light and a decent view of the street. When he’d taken a look at the space last week, he wasn’t sure that an older brick townhouse on a picturesque tree-lined street was for him. He’d always preferred high rise apartment buildings in the past. Something with a doorman and little responsibility. He wasn’t the type of person who bought a property with the thought of how the rows of turning leaves would look in the fall … or perhaps the people around here called it “autumnal foliage.” He wasn’t the type to look for a house that might call for weed-pulling or fixing things himself. 

He stood up and looked at the house caddy-corner from his, wondering if the same bike was parked outside. Locked to the railing of the steps. 

_Yep, the same one from last week._

A blue Schwinn hybrid boy’s bike that wasn’t ridden by a boy. He’d seen her then, rolling up to her steps and jumping off the thing before it had even entirely stopped. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but what little he could see was enough. A wisp of sunlit brown hair escaped from her bun. She had moved with a dancer’s grace, even underneath a shapeless hoodie. Pretty? Not quite sure yet. She was … _interesting_. That’s all. 

“Ben!” 

_Eh. She probably has a boyfriend. Or isn’t into guys._

“ _Ben!_ Are you coming back down? How long does it take to check your email?” 

_Or she’s the kind of girl that watches candle unboxings on YouTube._

“BEN!” 

“Yeah! Coming!” 

He hurried down the steps with as much grace as his long legs would let him, his dad waiting for him in the narrow foyer. Han had an amused look on his face, which annoyed him to no end, though he was aware of how irrational that was. 

“Get lost up there?” 

“Sorry,” Ben answered, with no inflection in his voice. “I was frozen in horror, staring at the museum twitter page.” 

Han slapped him on the back, looking up with an earnest expression. “How’d I do?” 

He blinked. “When I said ‘hashtag,’ you realize … you know what? Nevermind. It was good.” 

Han nodded and walked to the door. “Come on, we’ve got some more boxes to bring in, or are you really going to leave it to us old guys?” 

“Lando hasn’t lifted a finger. He’s currently flirting with the lady down the street,” he huffed, as he followed Han out of the house and down the steps. 

Ben squinted in the sun, trying to get a better look at the house that the bike belonged to. It was pretty identical to his, but her windows had all sorts of plants in them. There were more plants on the porch and flowers wherever there was space, even several hanging pots. There wasn’t much space for gardening, but every available inch for it on the property seemed devoted to it. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” His dad stood next to him with a knowing grin. 

Han had startled him, and Ben scowled. “Huh?” 

“Wondering about your new neighbors, and who owns that bike?” 

Ben would never understand how Han could so easily read his mind. It was infuriating. Unnerving. Highly annoying. 

“What? No, I’m not.” 

“You’ve got a Schwinn of your own as I recall. Haven’t been making good use of that bike rack attached to your fancy car … maybe you could ask—”

“Dad,” he warned in vain from between his teeth. 

“I’m sure Lando knows her, he can introduce you. He’s owned half the houses on this street at one point.” 

He gave a huff, gesturing vaguely at the spot across the street. “Absolutely not. I was just wondering why someone would work so hard to make their house look like an unkempt jungle.” 

Han clapped his hands together and winked, that teasing smile still on his face. “Let’s knock on her door, bring her some of your mom’s famous baked goods she stocked your kitchen with.” 

He scoffed, still affronted over his mother’s insistence that she fill his cupboards with all the staples like he was some clueless college student and not a grown man. He had been on his own for years. “Yeah, mom doesn’t bake, she bought those baked goods at the store, and I’m not going anywhere until I’m unpacked. I have work to do.” 

He may have recently reconciled with his family, but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend all hours of the day with them. Or go on house calls with them, acting like everything was normal. Typical father/son relationship. 

Han only gave him one of those looks that said “take the giant stick outta your ass, will ya?”—which he’d been giving Ben since he was about six years old. 

**~~*...*~~**

Rey lay in front of her downstairs bay window, doing a back-bend over an exercise ball. It was kind of hard to get a good look upside down, but she got a decent glimpse. “It looks like the prince of darkness moved in across the street.” 

Finn walked into the living room with a drink and plopped on the couch. “Why are you sitting like that?” 

“So that Severus Snape’s obnoxiously tall cousin can’t catch me watching him and send a dementor over to eat my soul.” 

“What makes you so sure he’s a death eater?” 

She carefully got up and walked over to Finn, sitting on the couch next to him. “I only caught a tiny glimpse, but he was wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, black hair, looks like he never sees the sun, probably sleeps in a coffin.” 

Her friend laughed. “I wonder if he knows what went on over there before he bought the place.” 

She visibly shuddered. “I hope Lando gave him a discount.” 

“He certainly got rid of the place quick after he put it on the market, I guess the Airbnb racket ended up not being his style.” 

Rey laughed. “Too messy. Too many people wanting to rent the place for orgies. I imagine the cleaning bills became more trouble than the place was worth.” 

“Well, you might want to give the dark lord a heads up about the monthly assless-chap meetups in case not everyone got the memo that the place has a new owner. It’s the neighborly thing to do.” 

She shook her head. “Most of us have to learn life’s hard lessons on their own, why should it be any different for a dark lord?” 

Finn shrugged. “He might be nice.” 

Rey narrowed her eyes. “I don’t date dark lords.” 

He laughed and put up his hands. “Who said anything about dating the guy. What’s wrong with just being nice to people?” 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s never ‘just being nice to people’ with you lot. I can’t sneeze in the general direction of a guy without it becoming _a thing_.” 

“Well, we just want you to, you know, get laid in this decade.” 

“I got laid in the last decade.” 

“Rey.” 

“Finn.”

“That’s not how it works, Rey.” 

**~~*...*~~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**~~*...*~~**

Rey had a very set way of doing things. It wasn’t that she was necessarily a “type A” individual, it had just been drilled into her at a young age. If she didn’t wake up at 6 am every morning, something felt off. Her muscle memory screamed that something was wrong, that there would be consequences. 

Upon rising, there was meditation for thirty minutes, followed by several sets of sun salutations. Shower, get ready, inhale breakfast at her kitchen table. Usually, the type one has with a bowl and a spoon, and she was beginning to splurge lately. Sensible Shredded Wheat and Corn Flakes had slowly evolved into eating Cocoa Pebbles splashed with chocolate milk, but only on Fridays. The rest of the week was a compromise of Frosted Mini-Wheats. Scrambled eggs on the weekends if she had the energy to turn the stove on. Huevos rancheros if she was feeling particularly ambitious, happy, and content.

She hardly ever made huevos rancheros. 

Rey would usually consume about thirty minutes of the news before putting her shoes on to walk out the door and ride her bike to work. Lately, her favorite morning shows were just too damn depressing to endure, so she preferred Supernatural reruns in the background. At the same time, she checked her messages on her phone. 

She had her daily routines and weekly routines. Tuesdays were set aside for pub-trivia night. Wednesday nights and Saturday afternoons were spent at the community center. Sundays were for cleaning and repairs. 

That particular Tuesday morning, she had to move her yoga mat from the area by her bedroom windows. She’d glanced out to find her new neighbor, the prince of darkness, walking out of his house and to his car. 

_Black Audi, figures._

She stood behind the curtain, watching him throw a messenger bag into the back seat and duck into the driver’s side. Rey still wasn't able to get a good look at his face but he sure cut a nice figure from her point of view. She gave an approving nod to the empty room. 

_So the prince of darkness looks damn good in a suit._

“Hm. Nice job, Dark Lord. Hail Satan,” she said into her lace curtains. 

Downstairs at her kitchen table, she finished her Frosted Mini-Wheats while staring at her one glass of orange juice, one place mat, surrounded by three empty chairs. As the television on her counter quietly droned on about demons being hunted by brothers, she thought about getting rid of the chairs and just buying more plants. No one else ate breakfast there anyway, save for Finn or Rose on a random morning in which they'd crashed at her place. 

She was about to drink the sugary milk from her cereal bowl when her phone pinged. 

**~~*...*~~**

She didn't know if she'd see him that day, didn't know if he'd show up to the museum … but just before lunch there he was, walking by her office on his way downstairs. He was probably working on the new Etruscan pottery that had been recently unearthed, helping to discern the meaning behind the markings. 

She got up and ran to her door. "Han Solo!" 

He practically skidded to a stop and turned around. "Rey." 

Her face scrunched up in confusion. " _Why_ , Han?" 

Han shook his head, perplexed. "What'd I do?" 

Typical. He didn't even realize. Rey put on her best chastising expression. "You said I should date your son, and for all of social media to see! Do you know how many DM's I've gotten over it? How many of my meddlesome friends have texted me?" 

He blinked. "DM's?" 

"Direct messages? People telling me I should go for it. People telling me they ship it. People at-ing me to stay the hell away from him even though there's no discernible 'Han's son Ben' twitter account that shows he actually exists. I've never even met your son! Why would you do that?" 

"Uhhhh." 

"I expected this from Finn, from Rose, even Poe … but you? Et tu, Han?" 

He looked extremely uncomfortable as he put his hands up, seemingly in defeat. "Listen, I never knew you could message people like that. Directly. I haven't checked the account since I wrote that." 

She wasn't buying it. "Really?! Well, it blew up! Did someone put you up to this?" 

He looked genuinely shocked at her reaction, and perhaps a tiny bit hurt if she was honest. He gave a shrug. "I just … thought you guys might … like each other." 

Rey blinked at him, her face falling, starting to feel terrible. She'd known Han for a few years now, and he'd hardly ever mentioned even having a son, but lately, it was "Ben this, and Ben that." She knew they'd reconnected recently, and she could discern a marked difference in his demeanor. He was lighter, he smiled more, he seemed to have found a renewed passion for his work. If Han was thinking of her meeting his son, he must think pretty highly of her. 

She felt her heart in her throat. And she had to get out of there before he suggested it again. 

Rey tried to mold her face into something more pleasant and hoped it didn't just make her look constipated. She'd never been good at masking her feelings. "It … it's okay," she stammered. "I mean … I suppose you did get a ton of engagement from it. So that's awesome, I guess. Unique hits on the website were up 80% this morning. We have thousands of new followers on Twitter." 

He perked up a little. "That's… good?" 

She raised her brows and shook her head, still in a state of disbelief over it. "Yeah, that's _really_ good. Amazing, actually. People love you. There was a Buzzfeed article written, you've kind of gone viral." 

His brows knit together as if he was trying to recall what 'viral' meant in regards to social media. "Viral? Really?" 

She nodded, taking a few steps backward. "Yeah. Great job, A+, really. I know people who've been trying stupid attention-grabbing stunts for years and haven't gone viral. And you did it in days, just by being authentic. Listen, um, I'm really sorry I yelled at you. Seriously, very sorry. But I really have to get back to … you know, curating things."

He inclined his head, giving her that "I know you're bullshitting" professor look. "Rey." 

She turned and walked down the hall in the opposite direction he was going. "I'll talk to you later! I have a meeting!" 

She didn't, in fact, have a meeting. 

**~~*...*~~**

Ben walked in his new office building to find Phasma perched on the armrest of the couch, seemingly glancing down at the newspaper. 

"So," she said, with a slight grin on her face, one that said she was up to something. She slapped the paper down on the coffee table. "Rey the curator?" 

He kept walking towards his office, not interested in her games. "It's too early for talking, Phasma." 

"Check your father's twitter page while you sort yourself out," she called to him. 

"Too early for that too," he mumbled. 

As soon as he shut the door and sat down, Hux barged in with two venti Starbucks cups in his hands. 

Ben scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to calm himself down. He'd made a conscious effort to be nicer to the guy lately, but civility was hard to come by before noon. Especially when it came to Hux. 

He interlaced his fingers on his desk and leaned forward. "Something I can do for you?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the bite out of his voice. 

Hux only smiled, knowing full well that he was poking a bear. He set down a cup in front of him. "Coffee. For you." 

Ben blinked. "Black? No sugar?" 

"Dark and bitter, just the way you like it." 

He tore the top off and took a gulp, a little too desperately. 

"Honestly, it's just an excuse to be able to watch your reaction." 

"Reaction to what?" Ben asked, the coffee feeling as if it were spreading through his veins, making him feel more human, less like a morning wraith. 

Hux gave a short laugh, but there was no malice behind it. He genuinely seemed amused. "The Coruscanti Museum's twitter. Your father has gone viral, shared thousands of times, picked up by Buzzfeed, the Daily Mail, NPR, among others. There are adorable screencaps of him shouting, 'Ben, can you read this?' into the void." 

Ben scowled. "Really?" 

His father's tweets had been ridiculous but harmless. He hurriedly brought up the page on his computer and began to scan. 

Hux held up a finger. "And that's not even the best part …" 

Ben's jaw went slack as he read the last entry … seeing its torrent of replies. 

Phasma appeared in the doorway, tapping her nails on the frame, the same sly smile from before on her face. "Rey, the cure … a-tor," she practically sang, stretching out the word. "The poor girl, whoever she is, has been bombarded. How long do you suppose, before they figure out your Twitter handle?" 

Ben started rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, contemplating how he was going to kill his father. It was a pity, really. They were just starting to get along again. 

**~~*...*~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: trivia night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opinions of Rey in this story are not necessarily the opinions of the author. 
> 
> ;-)

**~~*...*~~**

It was past noon before Ben would take a call from his mother, though she'd been trying to reach him all morning. He knew if he didn't answer soon, she'd start ringing up the office phones. 

He answered on the first ring this time, figuring he'd get it over with. "Yep." 

"You finally decided to answer the phone." 

"Busy morning." 

"I take it you've seen the reaction to your father's adventures in social media." 

Ben gave a long sigh. "I have." 

"And what are you feeling, Ben? How are you handling it." 

His mother had recently made sure to actually care about his feelings and well-being, or she'd been much more vocal about it. He wasn't sure if he preferred the Organa-Solo family back when they kept all emotions bottled up until they exploded all over everything. It had had its perks, though. Like no phone calls where he couldn't tell if his mother was subtly taking the piss out of him. 

"After a few cups of coffee and a walk around the building … I'm fine," he answered. 

"Anything shattered? Any broken furniture? Anything thrown out of a window?" She nonchalantly asked the questions as if she were going through her mail at the same time. 

_Yep. Definitely taking the piss._

"No, mom," he answered as he gritted his teeth. 

"Your dad didn't mean any harm. Honestly, I don't think he understood that people would actually read what he wrote. Certainly, no one expected it all to be as popular as it is." 

"I know. The free advertising alone is well worth a little humiliation." 

"Sorry, Ben." 

"Oh, I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about him." 

" _Ben_." 

"It's fine. I'm still relatively anonymous. I did my best to scrub myself from the internet months ago." 

"I know you don't want any attention right now." 

"Not the kind of attention where Buzzfeed is asking me for statements." 

"Hn. So then what kind of attention _are_ you looking for, Ben? Are you looking for perhaps some … companionship?" 

_Oh, god._

"Nice segue, mom. And no, not that kind either. None. No kind of attention at all." 

"You need to get out there, honey, and _meet_ someone. Actually, you really _should_ meet Rey, your dad was shockingly right in this situation. Although maybe it didn't need to be quite so public. I think she was a little upset with him earlier today." 

He could feel his eye twitching. "I certainly can't think of why she'd be upset, and also, I can't think of anything I want to do less at this point, then meet this girl." 

"She's lovely, Ben, really. You should just grab lunch. I can arrange it, you might as well. You're going to meet her any—" 

That was it. He couldn't handle one second more.

"I gotta go, Mom! An important client just walked in!" He hung up. 

"Past Ben" would have probably swept everything off his desk in a fit, and then some underling would've been sent in to clean it up the best they could. But "Present Ben" didn't stoop to that level anymore, as he didn't have the assistants and interns on staff these days for the mess, and he was genuinely trying to not be an asshole. 

His parents did make it pretty hard sometimes. 

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out one of the many stress balls he'd stashed there and brought up the museum's Twitter account. His mother was going to be unrelenting now, he could tell. Once she got an idea in her head, that was it. She'd be on a mission now for him to meet this Rey person. Leia would either plan something that they'd both unwittingly show up to, or she'd mention it to Ben so often that he'd beg her to get it over with, so he didn't have to listen to the same questions over and over again. 

Ben squeezed the stress ball with all his strength and looked up the girl. She had a peculiar name, and her profile picture was … was that a chakra symbol?

_What's a 'scavenger huntress.' Does she play D &D? _

After reading her reply, Ben suddenly stood up from his chair. Did she just … make a pun out of his name? Did she … _diss_ him? Was her name actually 'Rey Stantz,' or was that a Ghostbusters reference? The answer might actually compel him to reevaluate whether or not he wanted to meet her.

He put a hand on his hip, ran the other through his hair. 

_Nah._

**~~*...*~~**

Rey had walked to the neighborhood pub, no need for the bike as it was just two blocks down the street. The fact that the bar she frequented with her friends was so close was both a blessing and a curse. It was very convenient, _way_ too convenient. 

Tuesday nights for the foreseeable future were written in ink in her planner with "Pub Trivia," and she took it pretty damn seriously. She also took the taco truck parked outside very seriously. 

At the moment, they had a group of five. The only category that was a bit rough for them was "sports," which unfortunately kept them losing about 75% of the time. They were used to coming in second or third place. Usually, by the second round, the fact that they all had to work the next day was forgotten, as shots and pitchers arrived at their reserved table by the jukebox.

The bartenders always read the questions with microphones hooked up to the sound system. 

_"What is the artist BANKSY known for?"_

Rey always knew the art questions. 

"Easy. Graffiti art." 

_"What 70's rock band sang "We are the Champions?"_

Everyone was pretty good at the music questions. 

"Way too easy. Queen," Finn shook his head. "They might as well just give out the answers, these questions are for children." 

_"The giant sequoia only grows in what mountain range?"_

Poe was usually a boss at geography. 

"Sierra Nevada. Not great, not terrible." 

_"Which German city was infamously razed by Allied bombing in World War II?"_

Rose was always a history machine. 

" _Oof_ , that's actually a hard one," she opened her eyes wide, possibly trying to see inside her brain. "Dresden, pretty sure it's Dresden." 

_"What genre of movie is Gone in 60 seconds?"_

Jannah was their pop culture expert. 

"Action," she said, shaking her head. "It's getting too easy again." 

_"What Greek root means color?"_

"Chrom! That's what we like to hear," Poe said quite loudly. "Getting back to the challenge." 

"Poe! Shhh." 

_"In the NFL, what colors are the Chargers?"_

They all looked at each other with unsure expressions, their brows furrowed. 

"Uhhhh, no idea," Rey said. "I mean, who likes the Chargers? No one."

"Yeah, you never really see any rabid Chargers fans out there," Poe agreed. "Whaddya say, blue and green? Sound good?" 

"Isn't that the Seahawks?" 

Poe shrugged. "No idea." 

"Yeah, why not." 

In the end, Finn looked down at the sheet they used to tally their points. "Man, we suck at sports. It gets us every time." 

Jannah shrugged, "Well, I'm not gonna start watching ESPN for this team, sorry. I have my limits." 

They all nodded their heads in agreement, as absolutely no one wanted to do that. "Why do they even have to have a sports category, anyway?" Rose asked, after taking a long drink of beer. "It's not, like, intellectual at all." 

"Yeah, I don't get it either," Rey agreed. "But, at least there's tacos." 

"Oh, hey," Finn said, as Poe brought the table a round of consolation tequila shots. "Have you met the dark lord yet?" 

"Dark Lord? Who's a dark lord?" Poe asked. 

"Smooth, Finn." Rey rolled her eyes. "And no, he's stayed in his lair and gone to work, or I assume that's where he went in his black suit." 

"Rey's new neighbor, the prince of darkness," Finn explained. "He wears a lot of black apparently." 

"And he drives a black car," Rey added. "He's probably a republican. There's been an influx of republicans around here lately, and the neighborhood is going to shit. Pretty soon, we're all gonna have to move because it always happens. Rich investment bankers get dissatisfied with their pristine empty swank apartments and search for something more authentic, or _rustic_ as they condescendingly call it. Pretty soon, there'll be republican campaign signs in the yards and a TGI Fridays on the corner instead of The Cantina." 

Finn shook his head at her. "Yeah, I don't get why you assume the dark lord is a republican." 

Rey only shrugged. 

"What about Ben?" Rose asked because, of course, she did. 

The whole table perked up at that, as everyone had seen Han's tweets. 

Ray braced herself and took her shot of tequila, chasing it with the rest of her beer. "No way, man." 

"Why not?" Jannah asked. "You're already cool with his parents." 

Rey frowned. "There's an inevitable tale of woe there. I'm sure there's a reason why the mysterious Ben didn't talk to his parents for years, and I'm not really interested in a guy who would just cut himself off from his own family, who happen to be awesome. Poe, do you know him? Your mom and dad are friends with Han and Leia." 

Poe shook his head. "Nah, not really. We both disappointed our parents around the same time, so we weren't in the picture; we never got to know each other. I do remember he's pretty tall, though, taking care of your 'no dating guys shorter than you' rule." 

She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "In any case, it's not a good idea." 

"Rey, you always do this," Finn said, the tequila making him a bit more brave than usual. "There's always something wrong with men. They wear too much black, they have daddy issues, they're republican. Although I do get the republican thing." 

"Yeah," Rose agreed, nodding her head. "You don't date gamers, you don't date fantasy football players, you don't date men who don't like Mexican food." 

Rey pointed at Rose. "Never trust a man who doesn't like Mexican food." 

"They have a point, Rey," Jannah interjected. "You don't date guys who's favorite movie is Fight Club. You don't date guys who drink IPAs. You don't date guys who own Rush albums." 

Rey stole another shot of tequila and knocked it back. "I'll never date a Rush fan. I'd rather stay celibate for the rest of my life." 

"What's so wrong with Rush?" Poe asked, seemingly offended for the band. "They seem pretty benign to me, kind of lame, but not a reason to not date a person." 

Rey was starting to feel ganged up on and getting more and more agitated. She'd also caught Finn brushing his pinky finger along Jannah's thigh under the table, making her irrationally angry. 

She frowned, putting her game face on. "You really want to know?" 

"Yes," they all said in unison. 

"Is it the lead singer's voice?" Poe asked. "It is a bit high pitched, but that doesn't make them a bad band." 

Rey took a long sip of beer right out of their pitcher and set it down rather forcefully on the table. "It's because men who like Rush are smug and self-important." 

She took a deep breath and gestured with her hands. "Okay, okay, fine. Yes, I can't stand the lead singer's voice, and one can argue that I'm shallow for not embracing unconventional vocals. Still, there are other not-great singers out there that I'm fine listening to. Bob Dylan isn't a great singer, but I can easily listen to him because he possesses feeling and presence. He's not going out of his way to be stupidly experimental."

The others were merely blinking at her as she went on. 

"And sure, Rush's guitar player and drummer are amazing musicians, the absolute top at mastering their instruments on a technical level. The drummer can play the drums four times faster than Led Zeppelin's drummer. Great, wonderful, but to quote Dr. Ian Malcom, they were 'so preoccupied with whether or not they _could_ , they didn't stop to think if they _should_ .' Maybe it's technically superior, but is it actually technically _enjoyable_? Do you actually want to listen to it? No. No, you don't. It's like listening to nails on a chalkboard while some pretentious math-rock nerd is telling me it's just because I don't understand it on a deeper level."

Finn and Poe were looking at her like she'd grown a second head. She didn't care. 

"They say I'm not willing to dissect Rush's high-brow lyrics because I've been tricked into preferring Coldplay's pedestrian pandering. But you know what? _No!_ I don't want to understand it on some higher plane of musical theory, I want to take a song at face value, I want to enjoy myself in this life. I have to solve problems all fucking day, you're asking me to do a deep dive into experimental prog-rock too? To force myself into liking a thing because of its so-called technical superiority? Fuck that. Give me Chris Martin telling me he wants to 'fix me' any day over condescending nonsensical math music."

Rey took a breath, sat back, and crossed her arms. "A guy who likes Rush is also probably one of those dreaded passionless jackhammer bros in bed. They'll give you whiplash before they ever get you off. They're calculating how many thrusts per minute and figuring the median length of time between their last five erections and ejaculations. No, thank you. I do not date Rush fans. 

Poe stared at her for a few moments. "Gotcha. Alright, then." 

Rose glanced over with her eyebrows raised to her hairline. "Okay, but who _would_ you date? What's the perfect record collection?" 

She shrugged. "Someone who allows himself a few guilty pleasures. Like ABBA. Or Neil Diamond." 

"And what if Rush is their guilty pleasure?" Poe asked, his face looking all too innocent. 

"If Rush is their guilty pleasure, then I'd hate to see what their other pleasures are." 

"Don't kinkshame, Rey." 

"Oh my god, I _hate_ you." 

**~~*...*~~**

By the time Din arrived, the table had descended into madness. They'd lost the whole trivia night to the table of hipsters near the kitchen again. As a result, there had been several more rounds of pitchers and shots. Din was always fashionably late and dressed like he'd just ridden cross-country on a motorcycle. He was also stone-cold sober while the rest were getting downright messy. 

Rose grabbed Rey's arm as he approached the table. She knew exactly what had gotten her friend excited, as Din wasn't wearing a scarf. Or gloves. Or his huge aviator shades. It was very unlike him, as the man was usually covered up, even inexplicably in the summer, and never _ever_ without a hat. He also wore sunglasses indoors, along with his scarves, so seeing the skin on his neck was a little … strange. A little _obscene_. 

Jannah also noticed, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. All three girls were blushing bright red, biting their lips to keep from grinning like idiots. 

The boys, of course, were clueless to their state of shock and awe. 

"We really coulda used ya, buddy," Poe said, slapping his friend on the back. 

"I don't know sports either," Din stated, very matter of factly. He had a way about him, only saying words he absolutely had to. The man wasn't verbose, not like Poe. Rey wondered how they were so close sometimes. 

"It's fine," Jannah said. "Things always get crazy when we have a sixth player, we're always split up, boys vs. girls, and hurl insults at each other. I mean it's…"

"It's insanely fun, I think is what you mean," Rey laughed. "I've never heard such creative names. Like … a 'slimy piece of worm-ridden filth'? That one was gold." 

"I quite liked 'near-sighted scrap pile.'" 

"I'll always have a soft spot for 'malfunctioning little twerp.'" 

"Whatever, you 'double-crossing no-wood swindler.'" 

"What does that even mean?" 

Din leaned over and whispered to Rey. "Can I talk to you?" 

She nodded, glad she was well in her cups in case he had any terrible news. Maybe she wouldn't remember tomorrow. They both walked to the bar under the cover that they were getting another round of drinks. At the same time, the rest were busy making up new nonsensical insults. 

He leaned against the bar, and her eyes went straight to his naked throat. It was like she was in a regency novel, and it was the first time she'd seen a man without his cravat. Rey blinked and made sure to look up. 

_Eyes are up there, Rey. Eyes up there._

Unfortunately, Din's eyes weren't any less of a distraction. Without his sunglasses, they were all warm and brown … 

"I think I've found a lead on your parents," he said, breaking her from her thirst spell. 

_Oh._

He continued. "But it will probably require me to go a little outside the law. Are you sure you want me to proceed?" 

Her heart sped up, now only focused on business. "A little? Din, I don't want you to get arrested." 

He looked at her like she was a bit naive. "I won't. You don't have to worry about me. I just want to make sure you understand what this entails. Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty to fight these kinds of people." 

She chewed on her lower lip. "Dirty, fine … bloody? No." 

Din shrugged. "Got it." 

"Whatever you need," Rey said. "You have it." 

**~~*...*~~**

The walk home was lovely, mainly because Finn was giving her a piggyback ride after refusing to let her walk by herself. She was nearly asleep on his shoulder when he started talking, the vibrations from his voice jolting her alert. 

"I'm sorry we all ganged up on you back there." 

She gave a hum. "It's okay, I know you guys care about me." 

"We're family. And we just want you to be happy." 

It felt good to hear him say it. _Family_. But they needed to calm their tits on finding her a man. "What if I'm happy just being alone?" 

He scoffed. "I know you better than that." 

She put her head back on his shoulder. "I'm afraid no one really knows me, Finn. It's better if I don't get anyone involved in my life. Not like that." 

"Does this have something to do with what you and Din were talking about it?" 

"You noticed?" 

"I told you, Rey, I know you. You can talk to me." 

She gave a long sigh. "Din's helping me find information on my parents, and my grandfather." 

Finn gave her arm a pat. "So, you've hired him?" 

"He's the best P.I. that I know." 

"He's the _only_ P.I. that you know." 

"Yeah, but I trust him. He has a code." 

"True." Finn cleared his throat. "Hey, hon? Could you look a little less passed out?" He talked low so that only she could hear him. "The dark lord is staring at me from across the street, and if looks could kill …" 

She laughed into his shirt. "What, like, he thinks you've slipped something in my drink, and you're being kind enough to carry me home?" 

"Well, your arms and legs are hanging off me like you're dead, so …" 

Rey held her head up and realized they were right in front of her house. She looked across the street, and sure enough, the prince of darkness was looking very interested in her safety. Though to be fair, he was a complete stranger, so if the situation had been what he obviously suspected, it's not like she knew him any better. What if he was an actual prince of darkness and drank human blood? What if he kept his victims locked in his attic? What then? She was just supposed to trust him? 

_Nah._

But she did smile and wave at him. His expression softened. She squinted, trying to get a good look at him, but it was dark, and she was wasted. 

" _Oi!_ " she yelled. "My lord! I assure you, 'tis proper, good sir! He is a but a trusted friend!" 

Finn started to laugh. "Okay, Eliza Doolittle." 

"Hey, you are my friend," she whispered into his ear. "Even though you're kind of a fuckboy." 

Finn straightened and let go of her arms. "What did you call me?" 

Within two seconds, she'd slid off his back and ended up on the sidewalk. "Oof! Did you just drop me on my ass!?" 

He turned around, frowning. "You dropped yourself." He rolled his eyes. "Come on. Let's get you inside," he said, offering his hands. 

"Don't think I didn't see what was going on," she said, letting him pull her upright. "With Jannah." 

"Whatever you think you thought you saw …" 

"What?!" 

"Just get inside." 

"Okay, _dad_. But you know that Rose—"

"I know, okay? I'm aware." 

"Well, maybe we could just … find someone else for her, and she'd forget about you." 

"That's rich coming from you. You hate being set up." 

"You're right. I do, but she doesn't." 

"Just give me your key, you can't even walk straight." 

"Don't judge my walking capabilities, fuckboy." 

**~~*...*~~**

He watched the girl and her "friend" bicker as they made their way into her house. He honestly didn't know what to think. He'd stayed late at work and had driven up to find him carrying her loose-limbed on his back, and his instincts had just said, " _protect_." 

Ben was confused when she'd spoken to him, but he was relieved that she was at least somewhat lucid. Was she British? Or was she putting on that accent? 

He didn't want to keep listening to their conversation, but it was kind of hard when she fell. He'd almost walked across the street to help her up, but it was apparent that they'd forgotten he was there.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders this time. She had on a simple t-shirt and yet wore it like it was tailored for her. 

And she certainly did sound British. 

_My lord?_

"This better not awaken something in me," he muttered to himself as he entered his dark house. 

He walked up the steps, not bothering turning on lights until he arrived in his bedroom. He sat at his desk, opened his laptop, and listened to the silence of the space. It was so quiet he could hear tree limbs in the breeze outside his window. Going from being alone at work to being alone at home shouldn't have been any different than when he was with the First Order and lived within walking distance of Wall Street. Still, somehow an empty apartment was different than an empty house. There was more of an echo here, reminding him of one of those forsaken structures in a ghost town. Only shadows and spirits lived here with him. 

He brought up the tweet. 

Maybe he was angry that the British bicycle girl across the street had gone inside her house with a man, even though Ben had never technically met her. Perhaps he was slightly miffed that "Rey the curator" hadn't wanted to meet him, and publicly made her point. It didn't seem to matter that he never even intended to meet her in the first place. Intellectually he knew all these things, but some primal part in him felt slighted. 

It was dumb, really stupid of him, he wasn't sure why he did it, but some nefarious force inside of him insisted that he respond. She'd never know who he was anyway. 

After hitting send, he heard a door across the street open and shut. The British bicycle girl's friend walked out and wandered on down the road, his phone to his ear. He couldn't have even been in her house for five minutes. 

Ben leaned back in his chair. Maybe the guy _was_ just her friend. 

**~~*...*~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Rose investigates. They finally meet. 
> 
> Sorry to any Rush or Chargers fans ;-) I know y'all are out there, I just needed them for the plot. 
> 
> Also, Rey's thirst over Din isn't anything (though highly understandable from my POV), she's just kinda starving in that regard. We'll get to some Ben thirst next chapter. She still hasn't gotten a good look at him. But she will, oh, she will. 
> 
> And! About Han's tweet with the tick tock ... look up the ["Radium Girls"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radium_Girls) if you get the chance, ["very fascinating"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31iZZcTmDsg). 
> 
> Comments, opinions, thoughts, concerns ... always welcome. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a pretty long chapter. As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> And thank you, peachgalaxy, for your excellent taste in memes! You have hands down the best meme catalogue of anyone I know.

**~~*...*~~**

The morning came too quickly. Just a snap of the fingers and the sun was up, but the workweek didn't care. If one stays out and drinks too much tequila at trivia night, one still has to make it to their job the next day. Rey skipped her usual routine for a few extra minutes of sleep but regretted not making any coffee. Instead, she'd opted for knocking back several Advil and chugging a bottle of water for breakfast. 

She sat on her front steps bundled up in an old cozy hoodie, as it was beginning to get pretty chilly in the mornings, the leaves on the trees threatening to start turning. The strings of her hood were pulled tight around her face while sporting the biggest and darkest pair of sunglasses she owned. She'd been leaning against her railing and contemplating whether she wanted to ride her bike to work as usual or order an Uber. There was probably a 97% chance that biking to work would result in her pulling over to puke at least once, while with an Uber, it was about 50/50. 

The odds were not in her favor. 

Luckily Rose decided to swoop in and be a guardian angel. Her phone pinged, and she took it from the gigantic pocket at her mid-section, made more prominent by a rip in the seam.

"Are you alive?" 

Rey blinked at her phone, wondering where the voice was coming from. It was a deep voice, like Thor's. Was someone talking to her? Was she still drunk? That was a good possibility. 

She glanced up to see a figure standing just across the street. He was perfectly positioned in front of the blinding morning sun, giving her momentary respite from its harsh light and the consequential throbbing from her headache. He was like the moon, an eclipse … a shadow angel. A dark lord. Or maybe a pirate angel, like Thor. Yep, she was no doubt still intoxicated. 

She shook her head a little. "Wait … what?"

"Are you alive?" He repeated a little louder. 

Rey looked around. _Was_ she alive? She wasn't sure. 

"Maaaaybe?" She drew out the word, and her voice sounded about as rough as she felt. 

She then realized she must be a sight, leaning on her railing, and probably looking like a homeless person passed out on her steps. 

He took a step forward, apparently not caring about standing in the middle of the street and getting hit by a car. "Er. Do you … are you going to be alright?" 

She waved lamely in his general direction. "Just leave me to die here. Save yourself." 

He gave a short laugh. "You speak like you're in a medieval battle reenactment." 

"Eh?" 

"Like last night." 

"Last night?" 

"You probably don't remember …" 

She sat up straight and made an effort to form complete sentences. "I think I'd remember a medieval battle reenactment, no matter how many tequila shots I had. Well, hopefully." 

"Tequila, huh?" 

"Yeah, it was trivia night down the pub. We lost. _Again_. Too much tequila was had." Rey put a hand to her stomach. "We should probably stop talking about tequila." 

He tilted his head in concern. "Are you sure you don't need anything?" 

"I'll be fine. Nothing a breakfast burrito and copious amounts of coffee can't handle." 

"Listen, would you …" 

She saw it out of the corner of her eye, Rose's little yellow Volkswagen turning the corner and onto her street. 

"Ohh! That's my ride," she waved at him, hoping he'd disappear into his car and away from her friend's sight. 

There was no such luck though. When she grabbed her bag and stood up, he hesitated, as if he wanted to walk over and help make sure she didn't fall over ... but he ended up stepping back, as he also didn't want to get run over. 

It was all a little awkward, and it melted her icy heart just a bit if she was honest … which she usually never was when it came to such things. 

Rose pulled up and rolled down the passenger window with a grin. It was a crime that she wasn't hungover. "Get in, hunty!"

She walked up to the car. "You are way too chipper for someone who was licking salt off Poe's neck before knocking back shots!"

Instead of quipping back, Rose looked over her shoulder at the man still standing by his car. They needed to get out of there before she took it upon herself to invite him to the museum for lunch. 

Rey gave the guy another little wave before opening the passenger door and slipping in, giving him what she hoped was a half-way friendly smile and not a painful grimace. In those few seconds, she was able to get a better look at his face. He was wearing sunglasses as well, but his were aviators—the dickhead, wearing such an attractive accessory—and they hid his eyes. She could tell he was handsome, though, and that he had prominent, well-made features … a jawline for days. His hair had that healthy glossy shine to it, probably the pomade. It was longish but professional, and just the right amount of tousled, so that it looked effortless but was almost certainly achieved by standing in front of the mirror for an hour. 

After plopping down in her seat, shutting the door, and clutching her bag to her chest, she didn't look back. She felt ridiculous … a human disaster in an old hoodie, while he looked like a sleek assassin in a blockbuster movie. 

"Who's that?" Rose asked as she drove off … because, of course, she did. 

Rey sank down further. "My new neighbor across the street." 

"The dark lord?" 

"The one and the same." 

"Wow, Rey, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. He's more like a hot Lord Byron-esque dark lord than emo or a sinister Lord Voldemort type. 

"Well. Even Lord Byron was apparently 'mad, bad, and dangerous to know'". 

Rose gave a frustrated sigh, and Rey knew she was being difficult lately, especially when it came to talking about men. Boys. Dudes. People of the male persuasion. 

"He seems like a nice guy," Rey conceded. "He was just making sure I wasn't dead, sitting on my steps all bundled up." 

"Well, you do look like a deranged seal, with your hoodie tied up like that." 

"Rose!" 

"What? It's a cute look, especially with the knock-off Gucci sunglasses that take up half of your face." 

Rey laughed, although it hurt her head. "Yeah, I'm just always so concerned with impressing random guys, so I thought I'd dress up today." 

"Pssshh. The guy's not some rando, he's your neighbor." 

"I don't even know his name yet; therefore, he still has rando status." 

"One of these days, Rey …" 

"Yeah, yeah." 

"… you're gonna find someone you really like, and it's gonna hit you like a ton of bricks." 

"I just don't see the appeal in being hit by a ton of bricks." 

"You'll see." 

Rey sat up, ready for reality instead of nonsense. "As of right now, I definitely see the appeal in an extra-large coffee and a breakfast burrito. Can we make a quick stop? Breakfast is on me." 

Rose pointed her finger. "I see what you did there, changing the subject by offering to buy me food." 

"Did it work?" 

"Sure did." 

**~~*...*~~**

His mind should have been on work, but Ben had trouble concentrating all morning. All he could think about was the big giant hole that he realized was his life, and how he didn't know the first thing about filling it. His career had been his entire existence for the past decade, and nothing else made sense. Before work had been the best schools, and achieving the best grades, having the best transcripts, the best resume … his entire world had been boiled down to one word, _achieve_. 

What had it all been for? Achieving the best and the most never exactly made him happy. He couldn't even say it was very satisfying. There was always something else that needed to be done—the next big thing needed to be conquered or acquired. There was never any time to rest or enjoy a moment's peace when you could never let your guard down, never give an inch, and never let anyone catch up to you. 

Now for the first time in his life, there was no one above him, no boss, no CEO, no mentor in his ear. He called his own shots, was the creator of his own world, and he had no idea how to actually manage having a life. He felt adrift and unsure. _Pathetic_. How's that for achievement. 

His mind inevitably wandered towards the British bicycle girl. She seemed to be on her own and yet, not. A significant other had never stayed over at her house, not that he was paying attention to that sort of thing … much. She did seem to have close friends though, like the girl who picked her up that morning, and the guy from last night. People to play trivia with.   


She had also mentioned a person named Poe, which gave him pause. Could it be Poe Dameron? Does Poe play trivia? It wasn't exactly a common first name. Ben didn't know him well, but both their parents ran in the same circles. It would make sense if it were him, as everyone from the past seemed to be converging in the old Corellian neighborhood lately. Or perhaps it was just him, and everyone else had already connected and built productive and fulfilling lives. He'd been killing himself on Wall Street, shut off from everything.   


He could try to contact Poe Dameron, he'd always seemed like an affable guy, but Ben didn't know how to make actual friends. He knew how to schmooze with top-tier clients. He knew how to persuade people into risky financial schemes, which was more like manipulation … mind tricks, really. Having genuine friends and actually caring about them was a different thing altogether. 

Hux and Phasma didn't exactly count, as he wasn't sure if you could really be friends with people if you've never used their first names. They were colleagues, fellow soldiers, war buddies together … which, in the end, was perhaps closer than friends. Even if they didn't exactly like each other much, they had a shared experience that no one else could understand. 

As if Ben's thoughts had conjured him, Hux appeared in his office doorway. He leaned against the frame. "Do you want any food? Mitaka is coming by for lunch and picking up Thai on the way."   


Ben frowned and looked at some papers on his desk to make it seem like he was busy working. "No, I wouldn't want to get him all … flustered." 

"He'll be fine. Just don't make it too complicated."   


Ben looked up. "I don't make things complicated."   


Hux raised a brow. "Oh, yes, you do. If a dish comes with chicken, you want it with beef. If something comes with a red sauce, you want a green sauce. You want things spicy, but not too spicy—sauce on the side. No mustard. Extra pickles. It's always something. Just get something off the menu with no changes or amendments."   


Ben stared at him for a few seconds. "Fine. I'll just get pad thai."   


Hux turned to make his call with Mitaka. 

"But!"   


He sighed and pivoted back around in his signature insufferable manner, perfect posture, and as if he was floating on air. "But … _what_." 

"Is extra peanuts too complicated?"   


"I'll see what I can do," Hux said, then hesitated, as if he wasn't sure he should say anything. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  


Ben rolled his eyes. "What?"   


Hux held up a hand. "Just … please try to be on your best behavior when Mitaka arrives, I am trying to compel him to join us here, and I fear that his reluctance has to do with his … concerns about the office … er, culture."   


"Our culture is fine."   


"I realize that, and I believe he'd be happier with us and finally leaving First Order, but he has his reservations, as you're one of the partners and you once … well … you—"   


"I threw a ficus at him."   


"Well, I was going to mention when you took his phone and dropped it into a toilet bowl."   


Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. "Right. I've been an asshole to him."   


Hux blinked. "I believe that 'giving him PTSD' would be a more apt description."   


He rolled his jaw. "Fine. Forget the extra peanuts then."   


"Happily," Hux said, and walked away.   


Ben gave a low growl and opened his bottom desk drawer once again, taking out a neon green stress ball. _Yes_ , he had been an asshole, probably a monster, and well on his way to being much worse than that. But he was trying to turn the tide on that particular metamorphosis while coming to terms with the shit he'd done and the person he'd been.   


'The asshole' wasn't even him, to begin with, which was the worst part. It was a persona that had been molded and sharpened so methodically that he didn't know what was real anymore. The real person had faded away with everything else that had been lost.   


Perhaps a real person who could make friends and go to trivia nights. 

To take his mind off his current existential crises, he scrolled through the news on his phone, paying attention to the surprisingly bustling housing market in the area. He then noticed his twitter icon had a strangely large amount of alerts. 

This was not good. 

He could feel the back of his neck and shoulders get warm and prickly, a sure sign that stress was coming and dread was already here. He opened twitter on his laptop and found his last tweet, just as he'd left it.   


Rey had replied, though she wasn't 'Rey Stanz' anymore, she'd changed her name to "Rey, Scavenger of Brilliance." All caps. He'd think it was funny if he didn't happen to be the person she wanted to stick it to. 

"What kind of name is Kylo Ren?" He repeated, out loud. 

Underneath, his father had replied …   


His dad had outed him. _His dad had outed him_. 

Ben began to mutter under his breath, quietly at first … but then progressively getting louder. "No, no no no … NO NO, _NO_!"   


Already the DMs had piled up, and he deleted them without looking. He quickly turned off the ability for anyone to message him if he wasn't following. 

He then promptly called up his dad, who took a while to answer, as usual. 

"Ben?" Han sounded surprised that his son was calling.   


"You. Outed. Me." He said through his teeth.   


It took a few seconds for his dad to reply. "I … outed you?" 

"On Twitter! You replied! About … the name, Kylo!" 

"Oh, yeah. I uh … didn't know I wasn't supposed to. Can other people see it?"   


Ben's eyes practically bugged out of his head. " _Yes_! Other people can see it!" 

"Well then, why did you reply to Rey? I'm having a hard time understanding the problem." 

Ben gave a rough growl and stood up to pace around his office. "It was supposed to just be anonymous. No one was supposed to know that was me. I don't like people being able to find me on the internet, I hate having a social media presence. I don't want anyone to know what the hell I'm doing at any point in time, ever."   


Han was silent for some time. "Well, I figured since you replied, you didn't mind." 

Ben gave a long sigh. He'd never be able to explain it, how in a moment of weakness he'd replied to the girl and figured she'd never know it was him, had counted on it. His dad had no understanding of internet culture or nuance, couldn't decipher any online etiquette or code. He only understood how to read hieroglyphs and thousand-year-old dead languages on the walls of ancient ruins.   


Ben tried to calm down, he did. The stress balls were right across the room, but … "Okay, but why would you say we named the dog Kylo?"   


"I got a lot of fond memories of that dog." 

"That's not the point!"

Hux then walked up to his door to motion at him that lunch here. Ben nodded, holding up a finger. 

"Kylo Ren was my old avatar when I played video games, years ago." 

"Oh, right."   


Ben shook his head. Han didn't know he'd played video games, and if he did, he definitely thought they were a waste of time.   


As Ben walked out of his office to head towards the kitchen, he could hear his dad talking to someone else in the background, repeating what he'd just said. "Who are you talking to?"   


"Rey. I was just telling her it was your video game name."   


"What?! _Rey_ is there? You're talking to Rey?" 

"Well, she does work at the museum, and she's showing me her progress on the new exhibition, which is coming along—"   


"I don't care!" He could hear a muffled female voice and Han answering her. "Are you even listening to me?" 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here. She says she doesn't date gamers."   


As he entered the kitchen, Ben thought he might actually start hyperventilating. Calling up his father had ended up being a terrible, _horrible_ mistake. Not only did he _never_ want to go on a date with Rey, the Insufferable Curator of No Brilliance Whatsoever, but she also had the absolute _gall_ to say she didn't date gamers. He hadn't picked up a controller in years! Who the hell was _she_ to assume anything about him? What had _she_ ever done with her life? 

She also now knew that he'd named his alter ego after his childhood pet. All of which was information that his father had freely offered up to her on a silver platter. Ben wanted to enjoy an inconspicuous Twitter account that only followed indie musicians and stock market analysts. Was that so much to ask?   


He loosened his tie and felt the old inner anger bubble to the surface, the irrational kind that only members of his family could bring out in him. "Well, you can tell Rey the Obviously Frigid and Uptight Curator that I don't date people who work in museums! They're obviously clueless to anything outside of glorified grave robbing and will never understand me as a person!"   


"Wha—" 

Ben hung up the phone to find Hux, Phasma, and Mitaka, staring at him from the kitchen table. They had a vast array of Thai food spread out in front of them.   


Mitaka stood, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin as if he were in a 4-star restaurant. For some reason, it was quite endearing. "I - I really have to be going. I don't want to be late getting back."   


Hux stared up at him from his seat. "But you just got here. You have plenty of time, really, Mitaka. Everything is fine, isn't it, Ben?" 

Before he could speak, the guy held out his hands as if he was saying, "don't shoot." "No … no," Mitaka stammered. "I really must get back. Please enjoy your lunch, I'll t-talk to you later." He then slipped out of the kitchen, leaving his almost-full plate of food behind.   


Ben's shoulders, which had been full of tension, sank.   


"Nice job, Solo," Phasma said.   


He gave a long sigh. "I didn't mean to scare the guy, I wasn't even talking to anyone work-related."   


Hux rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter, when you raise your voice, there's a certain bite to it."   


"Yes," Phasma agreed. "And your eye goes all twitchy." 

Hux held up two fingers to his lips. "And you bare your teeth like fangs, except they're more like Nosferatu creepy close-together fangs."   


Ben made a fist, squeezing an invisible stress ball, and sat down at the table. Now that the smoke had cleared, he began to feel terrible. That was the new part from the past few months, the feeling terrible aspect, as he'd slowly let himself feel a range of human emotions again besides seething rage and a craving for power.   


"I'll call him and apologize." 

Phasma raised a brow. "To Mitaka? Or whoever you were on the phone with."   


"Mitaka," Ben said between his teeth.   


"Maybe give it a few days." 

"Right."   


Phasma pushed a carton of food his way, and Ben opened the top to find pad thai with extra chopped peanuts. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.   


"What's got you so upset?" She asked.   


Ben picked up a plastic fork and began to pick at the noodles. "My parents are trying to set me up with some girl who works at the museum." 

"And what's the problem?"   


"I can get my own dates," he mumbled.   


"Can you, though?"   


Ben started to gather his food, intending to get up and eat in his office. She held out a hand for him to stop. "I don't mean it in a bad way necessarily, it's just … where do you go that you can actually meet someone? I think all of us can ask that question of ourselves."   


Hux nodded. "Yes, work has been our entire lives for so long that I don't think any of us are actually prepared for free time. What do people even do? What are hobbies? Why is everyone always talking about Netflix programs? What, pray tell, is a Tiger King?"   


"That's one of the reasons why we opened this firm," Phasma continued. "So that we could all have lives … and work that we can be proud of."   


Ben shook his head. "I don't know why you act like we're on a permanent vacation. We still work a lot of hours," he said. "We just started this place."   


"Yes, but …" Phasma put down her utensils and really looked at him. "We work hard here, but how many times have you had to choose between eating, sleeping, or going to the gym? How often have you slept in your office? Or had to ask your assistant for a fresh shirt and tie? I'd bet on the answer being _none at all_."   


"Well … we all kind of share a secretary now, I'd feel bad about asking him to go shopping."   


Hux pointed his fork at him. "How many times have you taken amphetamines to stay awake for days at a time? Or ordered more than two shots of espresso with your latte?" 

Ben shrugged. 

"The point is," Phasma said, stabbing a piece of broccoli, "you now have freedom. Being out from under Snoke has given us the ability to actually have a life. Go start living one, Solo. Get laid, join a fantasy baseball team, learn how to bake bread like every other restless privileged white boy. You've got all this extra energy now and no outlet. Burn it off and become less insufferable … because you can't go on like this, we'll kill you." 

He looked at both of them with suspicion. "So you're telling me that the two of you are … what, trying to 'get out there'? Or is this lecture just for me."   


Phasma gave him a slight grin. "I've taken up boxing. It's going pretty well. And on Sundays, I volunteer at the senior center."   


"You? Volunteer?"   


She gave a little shrug. "It isn't all magnanimous … we need clients, and some of those old people are quite wealthy, you know, and do a good job of hiding their money. They could use a financial planner."   


"To plan for what, _death_?" 

"For their children and grandchildren, asshole."   


Hux began to smile and look very pleased with himself. "I've been playing D&D twice a week if you'd like to join."   


Ben frowned. "D&D?"   


"Dungeons and Dragons."   


He blinked, not sure how to react to that. "I uh … don't know how to play that."   


"Well," Hux said, going back to his food. "One does have to have an imagination to get much out of it." 

"So, what's so wrong with being set up?" Phasma asked. "Your parents seem like nice people, I doubt they'd want to hook you up with some troll."   


Ben gave a sardonic laugh. "If my mom likes her, it means the optics would be ideal, and my dad just has a way of setting me off. It's the same kind of stuff he tried when I was in the 6th grade."   


"Hm."   


"Girls hated me in the 6th grade." 

"You know," Hux said, as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I did look at Rey the Curator's twitter, what was it, yesterday? I didn't see any photos, but she seems at least half-way intelligent for what it's worth. She's quite funny, actually. She has good taste in memes."   


"Good taste in memes is essential, Solo," Phasma agreed.   


Ben shook his head. "Good taste in memes or no, she probably hates me now."   


"You might be surprised," she said. "Women have the uncanny ability to overlook quite a bit … men as a whole don't exactly set the bar very high."   


"Thanks, Phasma, that's very … comforting."   


"Anytime." She nodded and went back to her meal.   


Ben pondered over what they'd had to say for the rest of their break, and he had to admit that it was strange and not exactly terrible to be able to sit and eat with his fellow partners. He was glad that he wasn't alone in feeling a little lost. Perhaps he should try to get out more.   


He definitely didn't want anything to do with Rey the Curator or that whole debacle, but perhaps the girl across the street. He had almost asked her if she needed a ride to work that morning, but then her friend pulled up. Maybe another day.   


Perhaps he'd even learn her name soon.   


After lunch, he gave his secretary instructions to send a brand new iPhone to Dopheld Mitaka at First Order without a name. Only a message … "thanks for the extra peanuts." 

He knew it wouldn't ultimately make up for his past behavior. Still, it was a start, and it put him in a particularly giving mood. 

**~~*...*~~**

Rey watched as Han took his phone from his ear and stared at it with a look of utter confusion. 

She frowned. "Did … did he just hang up on you?"   


"Yeah," Han said, sounding as if his mind was elsewhere. Before Ben Solo had called his father, Han had been in a good mood and lively, well … as lively as he could ever be. Now his face had fallen, and he looked devastated. 

Rey felt terrible. "I'm so sorry, Han, I didn't mean to … be so … difficult." 

Han looked up from his phone. "No, no, Rey, you didn't do anything wrong. I just—"   


"I shouldn't have said that I don't date gamers," she interrupted. 'It's just second nature for me to say. I don't date _anyone_. I'm sure gamers are wonderful people, really, and Rose is always telling me to be nicer to nice people, and I'm sure your son is great …"   


He held up a hand. "Rey. It's alright, he was more upset that I outed him on Twitter."   


"Oh."   


"He didn't want anyone to know that he's… Kylo Ren. He's not crazy about social media."   


She nodded. "Right. Yeah … but he didn't need to hang up on you over it."   


Han shrugged and gave her a sad smile. "I'm probably just trying too hard … after not trying hard enough."   


Rey shook her head. She would have given anything to have a dad like Han Solo. Or just … a dad, period. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "But no. You don't yell at someone over a twitter reply. Well … in real life anyway." 

Han suddenly perked up a little and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "It's fine, he's always had a flair for the dramatic … he's definitely a Skywalker in that respect."   


"Right." She wanted to ask him what that meant. Were "Skywalkers" just a bunch of over the top whinging queens? 

"Listen, I gotta get back to the office, but the exhibition is looking great, Rey. I'll let you know if I can get any of that info about Mon Motha from Leia," he turned and walked away with a wave.   


"Thanks!"   


Rey couldn't help but notice how his shoulders slumped as he walked down the hall and out of sight, as if his son had totally killed his spirit. At that moment, she hated Ben Solo, or Kylo Ren, or whatever ridiculous gamer name he had. Anyone who killed any part of Han Solo was persona non grata in her book. The absolute worst. A snake. A monster. She stood with unwavering certainty that she'd been right all along, she _didn't date gamers._   


**~~*...*~~**

"He's not a gamer."   


"I'm sorry, what?"   


Rey had just gotten into Rose's car while balancing her bag, a cup of coffee, a stack of papers, three croissants, and her phone. She was trying to make sure her coffee didn't spill all over her lap as Rose peeled out of the museum parking lot. Leia Organa-Solo had just called at the worst possible time to give her the information on Mon Motha that she needed. Rey actually hadn't been expecting a response quite so soon.   


"Ben," Leia replied, a bit louder. "He hasn't played video games in years." 

"Oh," Rey said, surprised that she was bringing it up. "Okay." 

"Okay, great," Leia replied, sounding satisfied. "So I'll just have Mon Motha's designer get in touch with you. And I'll get back to you tomorrow morning. First thing."   


"Awesome. Thank you so much, I really—"… Rey looked at her phone. "Oh, she hung up already."   


Rose turned her head for a split second. "What was that about?" 

Rey continued to stare at her phone. "I need to research Mon Motha's weird taste in fashion a bit more … but she mentioned Ben, and I don't know… oh, shit. _SHIT_."   


"Shit?"   


She closed her eyes and groaned. "Leia tricked me."   


"How did she trick you?"   


"She's a politician and a lawyer, a former attorney general, she knows how to trick someone. I just walked right into her web! It was so simple and … and so evil!"   


"Rey! What'd she do?"   


Rey turned to her, shocked. "I'm pretty sure that in Leia's world of spin, I just agreed to a date with Ben Solo."   


"What?! How?"   


Rey shook her head, in awe of it all. "She tricked me. She changed the subject so fast, told me that Ben's not a gamer … and I said _okay_. Like an idiot. Like an amateur!"   


"So?"   


"Well. See, I had told Han that I didn't date gamers."   


Rose rolled her eyes. "Really, Rey?"   


"But then I said … okay."   


"Ooohhhh, so it was like you agreed to a date since he's not actually a gamer."   


"Yeah. And then she said she'd get back to me tomorrow morning."   


"So, she's gonna set it up?"   


Rey sank into her seat, letting her papers fall to the floor. "God. I can't exactly call her back about it … because it's all so vague! And then there's also the fact that I can't personally tell a senator who's a top pick for VP in the next election, that I can't date her son! They'll accuse me of being unpatriotic. They'll try to deport me."   


"You're an American citizen."   


"Have you met this administration?" 

Rose reached over to pat her head. "You might be reading too much into this Rey. Leia was probably just … making conversation."   


"I hope so, but … I've got a bad feeling about this." 

"It can't be all that bad, Rey. It's probably nothing, but even if it is, what's so wrong with just meeting a guy for coffee? You don't have to date him. You could always just make a new friend. New friends are always good."   


"Yeah, but now there'll be these … _expectations_."   


"You're demented, Rey."   


She gave a huff. "This is so ridiculous, Rose. I'm pretty sure that Ben Solo wants to date me about as much as I want to date him."   


"Well, then you'll have something in common. Just chill out, okay? It doesn't have to be a big deal, you're making a mountain out of a molehill. Why are you so hell-bent on not meeting anyone?"   


Rey shrugged. "It never works out. Why force it."   


Rose shook her head. "That's a lonely way to live."   


"Listen," Rey looked over at her friend. "I get it, you still believe in love, after being hurt. I admire that. I admire that in anyone. I just don't know if I have that gene, Rose. You know, the _caring_ gene. The one that makes you want to attach yourself to another human being like a barnacle, do their laundry, and have their babies. I think I might be defective … like my parents, and my …" She trailed off, shaking her head.   


"Your grandfather?"   


Rey sat back. "Yeah. And top that off with classic abandonment issues, and it's not a great recipe for relationships." 

Rose pulled up to Rey's house and turned to look at her straight on. "You are not defective, do you hear me? How can you say you don't care? You take care of _us_. You care about the neighborhood and the museum, the kids at the rec center. You're the first to drop everything and come to one of us in a crisis. You've let just about all of us crash on your couch at one time or another. You give us plants to make sure the air in our apartments is breathable. You're always the first to help us with a project, hell you practically rewired Finn's house for him. You definitely care for us, and it's kind of the same concept with a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, except you know, sleepovers with various activities. And maybe a more expensive Christmas present."   


Rey nodded. "Right."   


She knew it wasn't the same at all, but didn't want to keep arguing. It was good that Rose remained unjaded … there were too many jaded people in the world.   


"See? Easy." Rose then put her hand over Rey's. "And you're nothing like your grandfather."   


Rey gave her a watery smile. "Thanks, Rose."   


She appreciated her friend's sentiment, but Rey knew that things were just different for her. 

**~~*...*~~**

The usual nighttime routine of watching Jeopardy while eating dinner had been ditched. Rey chose instead to stare at the pair of objects she'd set on her kitchen table while shoveling food into her mouth.   


She'd found them sitting on her doorstep after Rose had dropped her off. A bottle of red Gatorade and a bottle of Excedrin Migraine. 

She had no idea what to make of it.  


They were picked up and inspected every so often like artifacts she'd found at an excavation site. There was no note, just two items whose only relation to one another was typical use for hangovers.   


She'd texted Finn, Poe, and Jannah … none of them had left anything, and Rose had been with her all day. Din had known she'd been out drinking, but leaving thoughtful objects on people's doorsteps was definitely not his style.   


That only left … _the dark lord_.   


Rey finished the last of her leftover chili relleno, screwed the top off the Gatorade, and began to chug it. She wasn't hungover anymore, as coffee and breakfast burritos were miracle workers, but it was always good to stay hydrated. She also wanted to finish it so she could throw it away.   


Red was definitely the best flavor of Gatorade, though …   


The bottle of Excedrin was taken out of its box and shut away in the medicine cabinet. Awesome. All evidence of random acts of kindness … gone. 

After rinsing her dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, she walked up to her bedroom and fell face-first on her bed. She might not have a headache anymore, but she was dead tired.   


So, of course, her phone pinged. 

"She thinks I'm joking," Rey mumbled as she got up to wash her face. "I'm not joking," she said to her bedside Dieffenbachia plant. 

**~~*...*~~**

Ben sat at his desk, staring at a plant. A plant that was sitting on his porch that morning with a note stuck in it like a small flag. It was written in tiny and meticulous cursive, which he appreciated, as good penmanship was very important to him. 

It said, “ _This is a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ dieffenbachia plant named Dio. He needs to be watered about twice a week and doesn’t mind shade. Loves being near windows. The leaves will make your tongue go numb if you eat one. Enjoy!_ ” 

He’d brought “Dio” with him to work, making sure not to take any sharp turns on the way, as he didn’t want it to fall over or get damaged. His secretary made a funny face at him as he walked in, handling a plant as if it were porcelain. 

It had to be from the British bicycle girl. She must have figured out who the “hangover remedy” was from and decided to reciprocate with a plant. She obviously loved them, seeing as she had a whole jungle on her porch. 

He wasn’t sure what to do with Dio though … or if he was going to continue to act as if the plant had a name. He didn’t want to kill it, and it had a much better chance of getting watered by his secretary if he kept it in the office. 

But she had given it to him for his _home_. 

_Decisions_. 

As he googled information about dieffenbachias, his mother called for about the 16th time since the previous afternoon. He figured he’d avoided her for long enough and picked up the phone. 

“Yeah.” 

“So here’s what you’re going to do, Ben …” He gritted his teeth as she got straight to the point. 

“Mom …’ 

“You’re going to meet Rey for lunch today, it’s already been arranged.” 

“WHAT?” 

“She’s already agreed. 12:30 at Oga’s, our regular table.” 

“Mom! I can’t just …” 

“You can’t what? I already called your secretary, he said you're free for lunch. You’re your own boss, you can do whatever you want, so don’t stand her up. She’ll be there.” 

He looked around his office, raising his hands to no one. “ _Why are you like this!?_ ” 

“Keep calling up your dad and berating him, when the man doesn’t know the first thing about social media and see what happens next time.” 

“ _Mom_ , I’m not 15 years old!” 

“Then stop acting like you’re 15.” 

Ben was about to tear his hair out, he had a big clump of it fisted in his hand. “I’m already seeing someone,” he blurted out. 

_She gave me a plant._

“It’s just lunch, Ben.” 

“It wouldn’t be fair.” 

He could hear his mom sigh on her end, one of those long sighs of bitter disappointment. “Who is it that you’re seeing?” 

“What, you don’t believe me?” 

“Of course I believe you, Ben. Who is she?” 

“She’s … my …” he couldn’t think of a decent white lie or even a half-truth fast enough. “She’s my neighbor.” He winced at the word ‘neighbor’ … dammit, his mother could always wrench anything out of him. It was downright supernatural. 

“Your neighbor?” Leia asked as she started to laugh. 

“What’s so funny.” 

She continued to laugh for a very awkward amount of time while Ben pursed his lips and wondered if he shouldn’t have just flown to London and jointed Empire several months back. 

“Mom. Are you finished?” 

She finally calmed down. “Just go and meet Rey at 12:30. It’s too late to cancel on her, I’m in meetings for the rest of the morning, and I won’t be able to get ahold of her.” 

“Mo—“

“Bye, sweetheart, have fun. Say hi to Rey for me.” She ended the call. 

Ben stared at his phone, figuring he probably deserved it for hanging up on his dad. 

He sank into his chair, defeated. Leia Organa-Solo had powers that he could only one day hope to achieve. 

**~~*...*~~**

The good thing about Oga’s was that it was a half-way decent restaurant within walking distance from his office building. The bad thing was that Hux insisted on following him there. 

“Why are you here again?” Ben asked as he was about to approach the entrance. 

Hux shrugged. “Just making sure you make it in alright … and to order a B.L.T. They’re quite good here, I highly recommend getting one for lunch. They put avocado slices on top and use a lovely black garlic aioli.” 

Ben stood still, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Do me a favor? Look inside and tell me if a girl is sitting at the booth nearest the back window.” 

“Of course.” 

He heard the door open and close. Several moments later, Hux came back out grinning. “She’s there.” 

“Well?” 

“She’s very pretty. A bit fidgety, but that’s to be expected.” 

Ben didn’t trust it. “Why are you smiling like that …” 

“Because Solo, I think you’re about to be pleasantly surprised and feeling rather foolish that you made such a huge drama about it.” 

“I didn’t.” 

Hux just gave him a look that said, “ _Well if that ain't the biggest lie of all time_.” 

Ben walked around him to peek through the window to see if he could find her and … 

The whole world went silent. 

The pressure in the air changed. 

His heart stopped. 

His mouth went dry. 

The back of his neck, all of a sudden caught on fire somehow. 

He slowly backed away. “I … I can’t.” 

Hux frowned. “What do you mean, you can’t?” 

Ben pointed towards the door. “She’s my … that’s my neighbor. I have to go.” 

“Your neighbor?” 

“Fuck!” He walked around in a circle, his hands up to his face in disbelief. “She’s going to hate me … I can’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t do it.” 

Hux was getting impatient, that classic snobbish indignant look flashed across his face. “Ben,” he said, actually using his first name. “I know we haven’t always been the best of friends, we used to be mortal enemies in fact, and if I can grow to tolerate you, she can grow to like you. Now, you’re going to stand up straight, walk in there, and have a nice lunch. It’s what a gentleman would do. And gentlemen do not freak out and leave a perfectly lovely girl to eat all by herself. Alright? Now let’s go.” 

He then took Ben’s arm, opened the door, and shoved him inside. 

Suddenly, there was the noise of lunchtime chatter and a U2 song in the background. At least there wasn’t a record scratch as he entered, and no one turned around to stare at him. 

Ben took a deep breath and straightened his tie, finding it hard to look in her direction. One last sigh and push forward from Hux, and Ben was stumbling towards the booth. 

As he approached her, he tried to keep the feeling of absolute dread, fear, and awe off of his face. _Fuck_ , she was gorgeous. He’d only ever seen her from across the street and never up close. She was usually under cover of darkness or obstructing her face with rather large hoodies. 

Rey the Curator was his British bicycle girl. One and the same. 

His mother must have suspected it, and that’s why she’d been laughing. 

It’s why his dad had suggested they’d be good together. He’d noticed Ben looking at her house the day he moved in. Han knew precisely who lived there, as his dad knew the Corellia neighborhood like the back of his hand. And Ben had never given him the chance to speak, always cutting him off. 

As he came to the table, she looked up at him, shock written all over her beautiful face. 

She got up and stood in front of him, her simple yellow day dress seeming like a shimmery gown bestowed upon her by a fairy godmother, the scarf around her neck might as well have been strings of pearls or necklaces made of the finest jewels … the girl held out her hand. 

She smiled, and she was like the sun, a glowing light meant to be the central force for orbiting matter that would otherwise float aimlessly through space. 

“I'm meeting someone for lunch, but I’m glad we can finally introduce ourselves. What’s your name?” she asked, in her criminally attractive accent. 

He reached out to touch her hand. 

“I’m Rey.” 

**~~*...*~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know he's not exactly popular these days, but I actually do like Shia as Harrison's other cinematic son in Indiana Jones (4). Plus, he gets bonus points for not murdering his dad. I just don't think that Rey would be all that into him. 
> 
> There's also a few Indiana Jones references in here like "we named the dog Kylo" ... in the last crusade it was Sean Connery that ribbed his son "we named the dog Indiana". 
> 
> Anyway. I'm always open to talk about anything. Comments, concerns, etc ... 
> 
> Up next: An electrically charged lunch.


End file.
